Note to Self
by CodyRhodesFan
Summary: Randy’s POV: Note to self: I know I’d rather die than let him see me like this. Note to Self: I know he’ll miss me and sometimes, I just wish he didn’t care if I lived or died. THREESHOT. CENATON. Complete!
1. First Part: The Last Day

**I felt like a one-shot then I changed it into a two-shot when I got the overall idea in my head. It may evolve into something more.**

**Note to Self**  
Rated: T – angst; darkness  
Summary: [Randy's POV] Note to self: I know I'd rather die than let him see me like this. Note to Self: I know he'll miss me and sometimes, I just wish he didn't care if I lived or died. TWOSHOT. CENATON.  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst

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First Part: The Last Day

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Randy Orton's hand goes to John's face, stroking it, but all that's in John's eyes are pure, hard anger, and Randy's body fills with horror as he realizes how much danger he can be in…no one knows that he's here… and he's just so angry…and he's just so very hurt without John even laying a finger on him…

"You little faggot, get the hell out of my sight." John snaps at him, making Randy tremble on the inside but he'd never show his pain and he'd rather die than knowing that he's shown John how much he really loves him and he wants to die on the inside knowing that John's eyes are looking at him, with disgust right now and his entire world's flipping upside down.

"John—"

"Get the hell out of my sight, Orton!" John's voice is cracked with anger, and rage and he watches as Randy's body moves so elastically away from him and he stops to look back at him, to look back at those burning angry eyes that burn right through him and all he can do is shake in his place.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't freaking know, Orton! All I know is that I want you out of my sight!"

"What are we going to do?" Randy repeats the question—how can he wrestle with him, knowing that he loves him? Knowing that he'd told him just that? Knowing that two minutes ago, he had been shaking and admitting that he loves him. "What do we do, John?! I can't do this anymore! I can't—"

"Oh shut up," John snaps.

"What?"

Randy doesn't speak. He's silent.

"You think this is going to be like all the other love stories, Orton? That you suddenly say that you love me and I just say that I love you, too and we hug and you leave your wife and not care about who we really are? You think that's the deal, Orton?" John snaps.

"I know you love me, John."

"Oh really? What's your proof?"

"You're in love with me…you've just locked your heart away in your own coffin of darkness because if you do that, you think that you can't get hurt by anyone…well I've got news for you, I won't break your heart, John…I won't hurt you."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"I don't believe anything anymore."

"John…"

"Just get out of my sight," his voice's so soft right now that it hurts to listen to him.

"I love you."

"I hate you."

"You don't."

"I'm not opening myself up to you. I don't care if I'm turning down the best offer in the world. I'm not doing this. Ever."

"You'll get hurt in the end, John."

"No, I won't! Okay! I'm not a little kid anymore. I know what to think and I know what to do and I won't let anyone, just anyone, hurt me." By this time, all John can taste in his mouth is his own blood and tears and sweat.

"I'm not anyone. I'm Randy Orton."

"I'm not sure of that anymore either."

"John, open up your eyes."

"I can't. They're too shut tight."

"Then I don't need to get out of your sight if they're so shut tight."

"I want to be alone."

"You don't mean that."

"What do I mean then?"

"That you don't want to get hurt."

"Don't you get it the first time? JUST GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT!" John feels annoyed watching as Randy jumps up at the sudden anger in his voice and John watches, as Randy's body moves, and he disappears into the shadows. "See? I mean it. I want to be alone…yes, so alone…"

There's no sound around him.

The taste of blood, sweat and tears, it's thicker, suffocating him, choking him.

"I mean it…"

His voice's softer as he looks around.

"I don't know who I am anymore…"

He falls to his eyes, letting his eyes bat and he looks around.

_"You're in love with me…you've just locked your heart away in your own coffin of darkness because if you do that, you think that you can't get hurt by anyone…well I've got news for you, I won't break your heart, John…I won't hurt you."_

He'd heard that. Too many freaking times.

He grabs onto his hand by his hair, almost wanting to tear his hair out of his head.

"I mean it…" his voice's louder. "I want to be alone!" he shouts to the world, so that he can feel it but he can't and he's just so dizzy as he looks down at the road's floor and he knows that he's alone—this is his hideout—he didn't think that Randy Orton of all people can find him but he had.

"I…w-want to be alone…"

He hits his head with the floor.

"Lying to yourself? Is that going to do anything good, John? You fucked up and you know it…"

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It's been two months since that.

Randy Orton doesn't dare look at John Cena anymore, not wanting to see the disgust on John's face and he rarely talks to him anymore, and in matches with him, he lets either Cody or Ted do all the work and he'd hit Hunter or whoever else would be in the ring with John Cena and he knows it's because he

A day at the beach.

Randy knows that they're coming to take him away. He stretches on his blanket, looking at Cody Rhodes as he shares an ice cream cone with Ted DiBiase, cute, adorable, very innocent, and as Randy looks at the water, feeling a shiver up his spine as he stands up, and feels the hot sand between his feet.

"Orton!"

Randy's eyes drift towards John Cena.

"What the hell?" he asks, holding up a living fish flopping in his sandwich, walking towards Randy who can't stop chuckling under his breath, "what is this?"

"That's Cody and Ted's present." Randy explains, glancing back at the relaxed duo, stretched out towards each other, sweaty, but Randy can almost feel the coolness of Ted and Cody's skin from the cold lotion they use before they go to the beach, Randy looks back to see John shrug his shoulders and bring the living fish to his mouth. "You are really going to eat that?"

"It's food, isn't it?" John asks him, feeling the fish flop even more. "If this does end up in my mouth, I'm going to kill you."

"Who told you to bring the fish so close to your mouth?" Randy inquires, raising his eyebrow to which John only responds to by running over to Ted and Cody, throwing the fish towards them as it gaps for water, flopping around, making Cody stand up and squeal like a child and having Ted's face plaster with disgust.

John and Randy burst into a chorus of laughter, staring as Ted tries to wipe away the remains and Cody reluctantly stepping back to his positions, and then they both glare at them. "Next time: we're putting CM Chimpunk in your sandwich."

"Oh, I'd like him in a sandwich," Randy says, making John grimace in disgust and as he tries to hide the disgust on his face, Randy shoots an annoyed look—feeling his confidence crumble from under him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Don't make gay remarks with me around, Orton, you know how much I don't like that!" John shouts.

"What? I change my thoughts just so I can satisfy you?" Randy snaps.

"Two months ago, you'd do anything to satisfy me!" John exclaims, making Randy go pale as he rushes towards his bag, and starts wearing his pants, zipping them tightly, and searches around for his t-shirt, cursing the world inside of his head and then, he looks at Ted and Cody who innocently remind Randy that the shirts they have are too tight to fit Randy and Randy takes the bag behind him, striding, making John walk behind him who's in his ripped jeans and white sand-filled sneakers, and still has his soggy sandwich, or at least half of it, in his hands.

"Look, I didn't mean it that way." John tries to convince Randy.

"You mean it. You mean it when you said you hated me! I believe you. I believe when you said you don't secretly love me—"Randy says and John grabs onto his wrist, twirling Randy around so that they're eye to eye and Randy and John suddenly don't know where they are, it looks like a parking lot of something, and looking back, they can see the beach, and they feel unwelcome there from the coldness that's burning inside of them.

"I'm not gay." John says. "And I'm sorry I'm not but that's life, isn't it? Though if you really think I'm incredibly handsome, I'd like to hear about that."

"There you go again, Cena! Thanks a lot," Randy snaps.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You're making me want it again."

"Want what?"

"To kiss you."

John and Randy let the silence sink in as John explores through Randy's hard blue eyes as the darkness condenses and sparks of black fill up his eyes.

"What do you want from me, Orton?" John asks.

"One day. Just one day."

"One day of what?"

"I want you to stay with me. For one day."

John blinks before he stares at Randy's somber face and he nods his head slowly, feeling Randy hug him, feeling the brush of Randy's cold body melt John's hot one but John won't surrender to pretty hugs and sweet kisses. He knows that he's not gay and he's not going to let Randy convince him otherwise.

As John and Randy go to John's sports car, Randy sitting alongside with him, texting Cody and Ted, saying that he's going to go away with John Cena for a while for a little talk and he watches as John drives.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Nearest store."

They pulled up to the nearest 24 Hours and John watches as Randy looks around the magazines, shoving objects towards the counter and John's brain phases out before Randy walks up to him, clutching onto the plastic bag and John knows that it's time to go.

"Where else?"

"Back to the hotel."

John doesn't understand. It's like being a limo driver again. They're certainly not doing anything exciting or action filled. Just a boring, 'let's go here and there' with no plan and John watches as Randy hops off, John reluctantly following him and as they reach Randy's room, John notices the many pictures of him that Randy has around, some of them are torn, some are neatly placed there and John's smirk widens. "Someone's obsessed, right?"

Randy simply nods his head sorrowfully. "Addictions are horrible."

John watches as Randy lays a blue blanket on the floor, laying on it, throwing the contents of his bag down and John's head is racing with confusion as Randy sits on his back, holding onto his notebook and taking a pen. "You're going to just write around?"

Randy nods his head.

"What do you want me around for then?" John asks. "Am I just a new collection to this room or something, Orton? Or is this all a joke and DiBiase and Rhodes are going to storm here with a bunch of streamers and sing around?"

Randy shakes his head, throwing a packet of Solitaire over to him and he looks at it, sighs as he sits down beside him, and starts playing around with the cards. After about two hours of playing around with himself, John lets out a sigh of boredom. "What the hell are we doing, Orton?"

Randy gets side tracked. "I'm coloring and you're playing with cards. Why?"

"Coloring?" John blurts out, laughter filling the air as he looks from Randy's shoulder. "You're drawing _me_?"

"Yeah, what you think?" Randy asks.

"I swear you put too much focus on my ass."

"That's because that's one hell of an ass," Randy responds, making John blush deeply but he won't surrender—ever…he won't, will he? He's starting to doubt it as John picks up the color green to color his t-shirt and Randy looks at John's body, staring at the perfection as his muscles move.

"There," he says, finishing the drawing for Randy. "You crying?"

"No," Randy says, wiping away his tears, seeing as John holds onto his back and brings him close, so they're cuddling together, having Randy put his head on John's chest, with tears falling down rapidly.

"Why are we acting like six year old kids today, Randy?" he asks—the screaming, the crying, the coloring…

"How else would you spend your last day on Earth, John?"

John's face pales as he realizes the seriousness of Randy's voice and brings him closer, suddenly resenting himself for being such a jerk to Randy. "Last day? You joking or something, Orton?"

"No," Randy whispers, hugging himself to John's chest even more, feeling John collapse to the floor.

"But what about Ted and Cody? They seem to be pretty happy last time I checked with them…" John remembers the happiness, envied it, so very much.

"They don't know. No one was supposed to know but I just fuck up everything, don't I, Cena?"

"No. No. Don't think like that."

"You aren't the happiest person alive either, John," Randy says, holding onto John's shoulders, burying himself into John's chest, 'what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

"John…if today was your last day, what would you do?"

"I don't know. Try to make the best of it."

"Best of what? I don't have a life, John. The only reason I'm alive is because some angels were sorry for me. Just got rejected by you. But I can't prolong Hell much longer."

"Don't think like that!"

"John, that's the truth."

"It's not the damn truth."

"You're only sorry for me. You would've never done this to me if you didn't know any of it. I'd die and you'd just move on. That's the story."

"I don't know what the story is anymore."

"What do you know, John?"

"That I'm sorry and I'm a crazy idiot who should've never taken this for granted."

"I want to run away, John. Let's run away together. Escape death. Forever."

"Randy, you're not insane."

"I'm too insane!"

"Randy…"

"What?"

"…you're bleeding…_hard_…"

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**I don't like this chapter.**

**I hate it.**

**A lot.**

**Next chapter will be the ending. But it make be a three-shot or a four-shot, depending. Review?**

**;) Sam**


	2. Second Part: Don’t Go

**Here's the next part.**

**I hope you like it. Definite three shot.**

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Second Part: Don't Go

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**Randy's POV**

I can't bear watching him like this.

He's slowly dying on the inside—right in front of me. I can't do anything about it. I can't watch him like this. I don't know what I've done to deserve watching John Cena of all people break on the inside because he can't save me. I can't even save me. This isn't like all the other love stories, he's right and it hurts me to know that life doesn't ever have happy endings.

He touches onto my face, "we need to take you to the hospital."

"No," I grab onto his shoulders, pulling him as close as close can be and he doesn't even care as I feel his hot breath on my face, sending shivers up and down my spine and his hard eyes melting at the sudden touch. "No hospitals. I don't want to die in a hospital."

Then I'd feel like there's something wrong with me.

Then I'd feel like there's something too wrong with me.

He nods his head, understanding and then pursues his lips together, 'so we're just going to sit here in a hotel room, staring at pictures? Is that your idea of a way to die?"

"I don't know. I don't deserve anything else," I explain, touching his face, feeling the sudden shock of warmth that rushes inside of my body—all I can see is his beautiful eyes, glistening, melting, warm and cool blue eyes.

"What if I tell you I'd take you somewhere, what would you say?"

"Take me," I breathe against his ears, making him stand up and pull me up, gently steadying me, and the way his body moves, elastically, flowing so gracefully, it's almost like magic.

He and I descend from the hotel, walking outside and the world is all gray even though it's supposed to have a blue sky and green grass and—I've never seen such a gray sky, grief cutting through, and I've never seen such dulled, bitter grass—maybe this is how you see the world before you die.

I've been prolonging death for so long.

For two months and three days.

I know.

I counted.

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It all starts with a dog.

It barks and it's brown in color and from my memory, a German Shepherd, snatching away at John's keys and as the anger plasters on his face, he grabs onto my wrist, tugging me towards the dog as he runs and I can keep up with John's speed as the dog vanishes into the shadows of a forest and John's hand drift from mine and I try to keep up but I need to breathe so I lean towards a tree to take a quick breath.

By the time I open my eyes, I find myself in the middle of nowhere, and John's voice isn't even muffled as I try to listen for one.

I'm lost.

In a forest.

It's late.

I walk around, pace around for about ten minutes before I come to the conclusion that this is a thick forest and there's no chance of me getting out anytime soon if I can't find John—where is he? Is he alive?

I've heard sounds from the bushes.

Not enough to scare me.

But I don't know what they are. And chances are, they could be deadly and I don't want to think that John's died.

My head's swirling with thoughts.

I don't know what to believe.

I don't think I can believe anything anymore.

I'm tired and sleepy.

I think of dying every second.

What happens next in this messed up love story?

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**John's POV**

I grab onto the keys from the damn dog and look back, "Randy, I got the—"my heart pounds in my chest.

Randy?!

He's not there!

My head's threatening to explode.

"Shit!" I exclaim, looking around in the thick, condensing forest, no patches of light, nothing. I swear I feel like I'm trapped and I'm wonder—oh, Randy—my thoughts are so disoriented and unsettled.

I find myself running around.

Then I stop when I hear the sound of a twig snap.

I peek towards the bushes, feeling myself burn with confusion when I see a—bear! My head thuds hard in its place, the dangerous animal's eyes are staring straight at me, and I step back, hearing a twig snap under my feet and I shake my head, biting my lower lip.

I've never been so freaking scared in my entire life.

This is not a care bear. This is a live, snarling bear with pointed teeth and an aggravated look on his face and I know that he can rip me to shreds any second. I press myself against a tree.

I close my eyes.

And brace for pain.

I just deserve this so much, don't I?

Stupid John. Stupid life. Stupid heart.

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**Randy's POV**

I hear the sound of a twig snap.

I watch from my position as a bear surrounds—John?! My head pounds hard and I find my heart threatening to burst from my chest as I bite my lower tattered lip and I guess I know that I'd die but John doesn't deserve to die and as I run towards him, capturing his body into a quick touch and feeling his heart race from underneath me.

"Randy!" John exclaims. "Get away from here or we'll both probably be killed."

"I'd die anyways, won't I? It's just a little bit earlier than expected," I softly spur and place my head on his chest, feeling him as his body sweats and the way his body moves, so unbalanced, so unlike him and it makes me feel even closer knowing that I'm with him, even if it's for death.

It doesn't even take a minute.

Blood.

Flesh.

Pain.

All over.

And we find ourselves, trying to run, trying to break, trying to hide—my thoughts can't comprehend how fast this is all happening as we find ourselves safe from its claws and he falls down, making me fall down on top of him and our breathing is the only thing that's important to us right now.

Blood spewing from his lips, on his shoulder, falling down, terribly, and I'm fused to him with my own blood rushing from my arm and leg and all we care is that we're alive and it's like we're lucky to be alive as he holds onto my back, brushing against me, and our panic fades as we realize that we're safe and we stare up into the black sky.

"It's going to be time soon," I warn him.

He's finally breathing and so am I. Our calmness return to our body and it's like nothing ever happened back there, but we both know that we just want to forget about it—after all, it's just an accident. Just a run of bad luck that always seem to be following me…

"I'm sorry." He says, 'for going after a dog to get freaking car keys."

"No, it's not your fault," I try to convince him otherwise.

"I ruined your last day."

"No, you didn't."

"I'd hate it if I had to go that way."

"I thought I was going to die."

"We're still alive."

"God just had to make me suffer, didn't he?"

"Don't say that."

"It's the truth, John! It's the freaking truth. Everyone knows that I should be dead. Everyone knows that I'm too manipulative—too selfish—"

"I'm selfish."

"In what way?"

"Every way."

"Why are we so selfish, John?"

"I don't know. It's just like that."

"Can we change it?"

"I don't think so."

"John…kiss me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

He puts a finger to my lips, closing his eyes. "You know why."

"Because you don't want me to hurt you?"

"No, because I'm not gay."

"You're lying to me."

"I'm not a good liar."

"You are. You just lied."

"If I'm such a good liar, how do you know the truth?"

"Eyes don't lie, John."

I flip beside him, feeling him lean towards me and then his eyes shooting up to see the night sky, black, all black, with sparkly stars all around. "Hey, you like stars?"

"Depends."

"That one's new."

"And you're complaining about me being a six year old."

"Hey!"

"Just saying, you know."

John points towards one of them, "that one. You see it?"

"It's so vague."

"I know it is."

"Why can't people see it?"

"Because they just don't look good enough, do they?"

"John…I'm talking about us. Why can't people see us?"

"Because we're hiding."

"Why are we hiding?"

"Because we're two selfish bastards who don't know when to stop hurting ourselves."

"Am I a selfish bastard now?"

"No, you're Randy Orton."

"You're sure of that?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Are we going to stay here forever?"

"Until your last breath."

"Can you take it?"

He looks at me perplexed and then he looks like he's going to cry and shakes his head. "I can't take it! I can't take watching you die in front of my eyes! I can't take it, Randy! I can't…"

"Shh…"

"Oh, Randy! I can't and you know it!"

I feel him as he holds onto my chin. "Why did this have to happen to you?"

"God doesn't like me, John. Heaven doesn't like me. Hell can only welcome me. I've been having nightmares for so long and I don't know why and when one of them told me that my father's going to drop dead the next day, I didn't believe it. It's been going on for a while I guess. That guy at the gas station. My brother. And now, me. It's just time to go…"

"I don't want you to go."

"You wanted to be alone."

"I didn't mean it."

"John, you said you meant it."

"I'm a liar."

"John?"

Out of everything, John doesn't admit that he did anything wrong—ever.

"I'm tired of hiding. Let's break out."

"Too late for me."

"It can't be."

"I broke out for you but you didn't like it."

"What do you mean—?"

"I told you I loved you. You rejected me."

"I'm sorry I'm not gay."

"You're a good liar, John."

He's silent as I scramble into his arms and I look up into the sky once more before I stand, staring at the nearby deep lake right in front of us, "it's time, John…"

He holds onto my hand and takes me into his arms. "Don't go."

"John—?"

He silences me with a kiss, a passionate, harsh kiss that makes my eyes pop wide open and it's as if the night has a color different than black and I find myself staring right at his tear stained eyes and my heart tears up so badly that I start crying too. Inside and out as I pull off.

"John, no."

"I'd do anything. Just don't go."

"John—"

"Just don't go…"

I watch him as he holds onto me, my body feels like water under his arms as he kisses me, on my nose, on my forehead, on my cheeks, on my mouth, quick ones and I want him. I want him so badly.

"Don't get away from me, Randy…"

Tears are running down my eyes.

I'm breaking all over on the inside.

And with every step that breaks my heart even more. I know it's hurting John on the inside, too.

I don't want to hurt him.

But I'm doing it. I'm hurting him so much.

I don't think I can take it anymore.

Note to self: I know I'd rather die than let him see me like this.

Note to self: I know he'll miss me and sometimes, I just wish he didn't care if I lived or died.

**Yeah, next chapter. Can be either cute or the darkest thing you've ever read. It depends one which one I want to go with.**

**Oh, review?**

**;) Sam**


	3. Last Part: Angel’s Eyes

**Is there no happy ending to my story?**

**Or is there?**

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Last Part: Angel's Eyes

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**Randy's POV**

It's too painful.

For me to watch him like this.

Holding on. Never letting me go. Finally admitting that he loves me. It's hard. It's hard walking through those waters, knowing that I have to die and as I slip into the water, looking up at his tearstained face as he refuses to let go of me.

"I'll never let go of you." He says, his eyes brimming with tears, kissing onto my forehead, "I'd rather die than having you get hurt. I'd rather die than letting go of you."

It's seeing his eyes.

Emotions.

All burning into them.

Angel's eyes.

Staring at me.

I don't know if I can let go of him.

"Goodbye…" I whisper under my breath.

"No. I'm not saying that word!" John exclaims, gripping tighter onto my wrists, wanting me and I can feel it pulse into his heart, the pain that's overwhelming his eyes as I realize that my eyes are glued to his face.

To him.

"I'd rather die than letting go of you…" he whispers again, and it fills the air, rips through my heart, acid spitting out of it.

"I love you, John Cena."

His eyes close up.

I know that he can't say those words.

Those words he hates so much but he still refuses to let go of my hands. He still refuses to let me go.

"Why do you have to go? Why not me?"

"You're an angel, John. You're not like me—"before I can finish my sentence, I feel something clawing at me, pulling me down and John, too and my arms are onto his body, holding onto him, feeling him hold onto me, and we go up in the air, to take in some air. It's not just anything pulling me down.

The angels are doing this.

"John…no…get off of me!" I exclaim.

"Why?" he asks, gripping onto my hands harder and I try to shuffle the pain but I scream. I scream and he loosens his grip.

I don't want to tell him.

I don't want to tell him that if he doesn't let go of me, he'll die too.

I'm afraid that he might never want to let go of me.

I say the words that make my heart burn with disgrace.

It makes my head pound.

It makes my body shake in disbelief.

"I hate you."

I feel like a jerk.

And he finally let go.

Anger in his eyes. "You're just playing around with me, aren't you, Orton?!" he exclaims and I'm just holding back my tears.

He doesn't know that I won't be breathing so very soon.

He doesn't know that I'd be dead and lost so very soon.

I don't want him to feel this way.

I don't want him to do this.

He won't get hurt. No. Just me getting hurt.

That doesn't matter. As long as John's safe. As long as John's all alone…all safe…all wanting me to die.

It hurts me seeing him like this.

Hating me. Against me.

But I have no other choice.

I don't want him to get hurt because of me.

I taste the aftertaste of the kiss.

The colors are all gone and nothing's left. There's just a lack of color here. There's just blackness that's burning into me. Condensing. And it's going to stay there for a long, long time and I just know it.

I'm broken.

I can't be fixed and I know it. I close my eyes and prepare to die, holding onto John's shoulder and giving him one last kiss.

"Don't touch me, you faggot."

My heart sinks into my chest.

My heart bleeds.

I deserve to bleed.

"Don't you dare touch me ever again!"

It hurts me to see him like this.

Note to self: just die. Kill me. Right now. Please.

"I hate you."

My words against me.

It's like stabbing a knife in my heart.

I'm just scared that he feels that way, too.

And before I can say another word, all I see is blue and black, choking on water, all in the back of my head, I can't breathe and I reach for the air above me.

"I love you!"

And—just nothing.

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**John's POV**

My eyes flutter wide.

I see him gone.

Gone.

I dive to find him.

And grabbed onto the cold body, trying to reach the forest's grass and place him on it. Panting, I reach towards him and see as his eyes slowly flutter and my heart pounds so furiously.

"R-Randy?"

Randy can only stare at me.

Breathing.

Every breath feels like the last one.

I don't want him to die…he can't die…he's not going to die, is he?

"Randy?"

Randy stares straight at me.

"J-John…" he chokes out.

"Randy!"

I'm just so horrified.

Seeing him like this. Seeing him so weak. Seeing him this fragile. It just hurts. I don't think I can take it anymore.

"I need you…" I whisper. "I-I-"

"John…" he says.

His voice's cracked.

I don't remember him as Randy Orton anymore.

"Don't cry for me…I'm not worth it…"

And before I can say anything, his eyes shut tight.

I shake him, again and again but he doesn't wake up.

I don't feel him breathing.

I don't hear him breathing.

He-he-can't be…no, he isn't—

His body's so limp in my arms.

I don't think I can take this anymore.

Note to self: his scent…it's fading…

Note to self: my heart's still burning.

I can't help it.

The tears just fall out of my eyes.

He's in my arms. He's dead. He's so motionless. I can't believe it. I slam my fist to the ground.

"I need him with me, God! Just for one damn minute!"

Tears are burning in my eyes.

"Please…"

It's the voice of a little boy that I hear.

I twist my head around.

"Just one minute…"

My eyes are blurry.

I can hear the angels sing.

I hope they're happy.

I don't think they're angels anyways.

"_You want him back?"_ their sweet, lullaby voice inside of my head, laughing, a dark child's voice.

"I'd do anything." I say, deciding all of a sudden.

Not needing to think at all.

"Come back to me, Ran…" I say, burying my face into his chest.

Where's home?

Where's love?

Where's my heart?

I don't know anymore. I've locked it away and now, this is what happens to me. Of course. You've fucked up again, Cena.

That's all what you seem to do nowadays, right?

"Would you sacrifice your angel life for him?"

I stare down at him, feeling his lifeless body, drying from the wetness.

"Y-yes."

"Would you sacrifice your life right now to save his?"

Anything.

"Yes…"

My voice's so cracked. So torn. So broken.

I feel like how Randy looks.

It's not supposed to be like this.

It's not supposed to end like this.

"Do you really want to die?"

I nod my head, feeling the tears spill from my eyes.

"Only for a little while…"

You'd say I'm crazy.

You'd say I'm seriously crazy.

Throwing my life away just to save Randy's for even a minute.

But you don't understand. You don't understand that in that minute, my entire world will change. I'm so desperate. I don't care if I have to die. Like Randy said—I'd never open myself up to anyone.

I'd live a horrible life.

I feel his pulse speed up. I feel his heartbeat. I feel him.

I've never seen anything so beautiful.

His perfect angel's eyes, blue with that hint of white laced at the edges, slowly opening up. It's like watching the first snowflake for the first time. It's like watching your heart being mending. It's like making love the first time ever. It's like biting into the first bite of a chocolate bar. It's all too perfect. It's never been better.

He holds onto my shoulder, kissing my nose softly.

"John…I…"

My tears sting my eyes.

His tears fall down fast.

Our hearts are broken and mended all at once.

Stitched together by our shed tears.

"Randy…I love you."

It's the words I never liked saying.

But I say them anyways.

Note to self: you break too many promises, Cena.

Randy's lips capture mine.

We suddenly don't care that we have so little time left.

Randy moves away.

"Don't throw away your life for mine."

"No…I have to…"

"You don't understand." Randy's voice's all plastered with burning pain. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me. Never."

"You don't understand." I say, pressing my head to his chest. "I don't want to be alone…I'm a horrible liar."

"John…how do I know if you really love me?"

"Do eyes lie?" I say.

He looks into mine.

Our eyes entwined into each other.

Laughter fills the air.

Cracked and broken.

"Let's die together, Randy. Let's go to Hell together…"

"That's it. You were never meant in Hell."

Our eyes.

Staring.

"I don't want to sleep." Randy says, finally breaking the silence.

"Do you want me to sing for you?"

Randy's eyes are hopeful.

"How I would like to stay here with you…"

Randy buries his head into my chest.

"What would I give to stay here beside you…"

My hand strokes his back.

"I would like if you could smile at me…"

Randy's mouth cracks a soft smile.

"You'll take me where you want to…"

Randy's eyes leak tears.

"And I'll be part of your world…"

Touching his face, I lift up his chin.

"Next to you, always this way…only with you…"

Randy sobs into my chest.

I only hold onto him.

And slowly, we slip off into the darkness.

__

_RIP  
Randy __(Orton) __Cena and John Cena  
Beloved friends and family  
Their hearts are sewed together; let their souls forever be intact.  
Died both on 6, July, 2009_

There are notes at the end of the gravestone.

**Note to Cody and Ted: Cross Orton out of my grave. I need it to be Cena…I love him and I miss you guys, terribly. Be strong. Stay strong. – Randy**

__

**There you go.**

**I'm a sadist. I killed them twice.**

**Hmm…I should really try fluff. Maybe the next one-shot. Review?**

**;) Sam**


End file.
